Forever Blue
by EmeraldxLady
Summary: Librarian Cadence O'Riely is suddenly thrust back into the world she left a few years ago when a suicidal case with one of her coworkers catches the attention of an old love that nearly ruined her. Sherlock Holmes is not yet ready to face the emotional baggage that comes with seeing the one beloved person that left him behind. Rated M for adult themes and violence.


_**Hello Everyone! My name is Emeraldxlady and I have written a Sherlock fan fic... yeah its a little different from most of the library but I couldn't refuse this idea and had to put it out there. I hope you like it...I will try to appeal to the fan service and forgive me in advanced if I go a little OOC, I will try my best not too. **_

_**Have a wonderful time lovelies!**_

* * *

Standing in front of the mirror of her one person bathroom, Cadence O'Reily stared at her chest. Today her breasts decided it was a good day to be on the heavy side and she had to whip out her ugly pink leopard print colored bra to hold them up.

"You are the enemy to all those whom suffer with giant boobs" she snarled at her breasts before she pulled on her white blouse, tucking it in neatly with her pencil skirt. She checked on her make-up really quick before she clicked out of her bathroom, slipped on her lavender colored cardigan and put in her lucky hair pin. The cute little blue bird twinkled with the precious stone in the diamond family. It had once belonged to her grandmother.

She pinned on her name tag with the title "Librarian" underneath. Cadence had worked at the London Library for a few years now and enjoyed every minute of it. She worked in the children and young adult floors and had gotten to know the regulars by name and their preferred genre of books. All called her "Miss. O'Reily" and treated her as if she were a beloved baby sitter or teacher.

She applied a new coat of pale pink lip gloss before she smacked her lips and grinned. She had curled her auburn hair to perfection and she wore her favorite perfume, the children loved the vanilla because they said she smelled like sugar cookies.

Leaving her tiny apartment and locking the door, she saw her elderly neighbor and chirped a good morning. Leaving the complex, she inhaled the crisp morning air and sighed with a smile. She leisurely walked to the bus stop and patiently waited. The bus driver was the regular, chatty older man. Cadence asked how his wife and children were and what he did for the weekend, after the fifteen minute ride, she check her watch on her wrist and smiled, twenty minutes early as usual.

Boarding off the bus, she looked at the giant building and noticed something different about entrance, it was taped off with yellow tape and the police were traveling in and out of it. Quickly, she took the entrance around the back as usual and entered through. The break room was filled with librarians whispering to each other.

"What on earth is going on?" Cadence asked, looking at her co-workers.

"Oh Caddy!" an older lady that worked in the children's section approached her "You know of Mr. Charles Kane?" she looked really sad and mildly disturbed.

"Yes, he is usually on my lunch break, why do you ask?" she replied, feeling worried. "Harriet what's going on?"

"Well love," she sighed, "he was found…dead this morning, hanging by his neck from the ceiling in the philosophy department."

Without another word Cadence headed out the break room, running as fast as she could in her heels to the philosophy department. She waited for the police to take the elevator before she sized her chance, going up a couple floors she stepped out. There was already a small crowd and she snuck in, slowly moving toward the front. The body of Mr. Kane was hanging by his neck from power wires from the high ceiling and she had to cover her mouth the hold back her scream and vomit.

* * *

_**Earlier that morning on 221B Baker Street**_

"John, what in god's name are you reading?"

A sandy haired man looked up from a book in his hand, sitting in his usual armchair by the fireplace. A peeved looked overcastted his calm features as he looked to his flat mate, a dark, curly haired man with piercing eyes.

"Um, a book?" he replied almost sarcastically "something I tend to enjoy when I am not bothered by your constant babbling or my blogging."

Removing his dark grey scarf, the great amateur detective Sherlock Holmes walked merely three strides before he suddenly collapsed onto his favorite couch by the wall. John resumed to his reading, rather engrossed with the magnificent words that he ate up.

"I meant, John, what exactly does the book entail?" Sherlock asked, closing his eyes and resting his hands on his chest rather than placing them together in a prayer like resting place.

"Well," he closed the book to look at the cover "It's called _The Writer_ by Johanna Limerick. A single man named Alec Kennedy is caught into solving the mysterious murder of a writer named Harold Jackson."

Sherlock let out sound of distaste and turned his head, his eyes open to look at John "sounds absolutely boring. Let me guess, it's his wife, lover or secretary?"

"No, Sherlock." John went back to his reading "it has many twists and turns that not even you can predict."

"I can always skip to the end and it won't be such a surprise to me anymore."

"But you love surprises Sherlock." John sighed, not up for an argument.

Before Sherlock could answer, his cell phone rang. Almost lazily, Sherlock answered with a bored "Sherlock Holmes."

John finally had a moment of peace, but he suddenly felt interested by the fact that it may be a case or something. He got his answer when he caught sight of Sherlock sitting up and looking at him almost excitedly.

"Let's go to the Library."

John looked perplexed, "why?"

"A librarian hung himself in the middle of the Philosophy collection."

On 14 St. James's Square, the London Library was the murder place of a Librarian by the name of Charles Kane. Under the investigation of Inspector Lestrade and Sgt. Sally Donovan whom was looking up at the body that was hanging from a chord that was pulled through the ceiling. The dead man's face was blue, eyes wide and his tongue was hanging out. The black and purple bruise around his neck was inkling that he may have struggled and suffocated instead of an instant death from his neck being snapped in half.

"Damn..." she places her hands on her hips and clucked her tongue, the coroner was instructing at his team to get the body down **gently **from its deadly, power wire suspension.

"What did I miss?"

Sally Donovan turned her head and rolled at her eyes at the sight of Sherlock and his sidekick John Watson (whom proved to be more helpful sometimes). Inspector Lestrade waved at them to come closer.

"So, what can you tell about this?" he waved his hand rather carelessly as the body was finally brought to the floor.

Sherlock walked up to the body, his eyes peering through the tiny microscope, dipping his hands in pockets and smelling before he stood up and clapped his hands together, it echoed throughout the floor and Sherlock looked mildly entertained by that than the body next to his feet.

"Well, he is a librarian and spent most of his time here judging by the musty smell and the faint scars on the tips of his fingers; most likely from paper cuts. He preferred to be by the collection of books that were dated between the 16th and 19th century. Single man with a dog and no close family and judging by the smell of his breath he liked eating fish and chips on a regular basis."

John raised an eyebrow "must have pissed someone off, not sure how someone like him would drive to murder though."

"Heh, judging by the neatly pressed shirt and pants, we can say that he was clean kept and wore a popular men's cologne. Either to attract a potential partner or wanted to smell fresh..." he looked down at the body before looking at Sgt. Donovan whom had less than pleased look on her face.

"Its murder." he smiled, "you can tell by the bruising that he was struggling against the attacker, there are also bruised imprints of fingers near the trachea and leading to asphyxia. You can see that he was hung after he was killed, making it looks like suicide." Sgt. Donovan sneered "we shall see Holmes."

"You'll be proven wrong again when you realize that I was right and you, again, were…"something caught his attention, the way he abruptly ended his sentence caused John to wonder what he was looking at. Following Sherlock's line of sight, John caught sight of a woman wearing a black pencil skirt with a white blouse and wore a lavender cardigan. Her long legs appeared to be longer in her ankle strap heels. She was looking away, using her auburn curls to cover her face. She was rubbing her shoulders as if she were cold.

"Um, Sherlock"

Without answering, he turned towards John, who was suddenly confused and surprised by the sudden change in his entire being, an angry scowl that matched the anger in his eyes caused him to wonder why that woman suddenly triggered it. He glanced at her again before Sherlock suddenly barked at him to look at the body.

* * *

_Oh…my …god_

The moment Cadence made eye contact with Sherlock, a wave of old emotions flooded her chest. Her chest clenched and her heart began to pound violently into her ribcage. Looking away, she hid her face behind her wave of curls; she should have known that of all the places she would have run into him it would be at a crime scene. Why now of all times? She was perfectly fine and happy without him around!

She waited for the police to shoo them away, when they finally did, Cadence was the first to the elevator. She could be exposed to him any longer…he was dangerous to her sense of sanity.

In attempt to warm her cold, clammy hands she rubbed them together and walked to the break room. Pulling from her bag, a thermos of hot tea would not only warm her hands but also calm her nerves.

Lucky, only to police came down to take witness statements, Cadence spoke of her past experience with Mr. Kane and of her usual morning routine.

"I never got to know him really, I only ever saw him during my lunch break. He was a quiet man but not unsociable." She sipped at her tea, her nerves calming down. "He liked eating his fish and chips; he would occasionally say that he wanted to retire to the beach so he could fish."

"Was there anything different in his behavior the day before his death?"

Cadence shook her head, "not that I was aware of. Sorry."

* * *

"Oh my lanta Caddy!" a sandy haired woman stared at her with large eyes, "that must have been so awkward."

Cadence ate a small bite of peach sorbet with all sorts of fruit gummies and candies topped with raspberry dessert sauce. She nodded and looked at her friend "I don't think he'll come and find me Mary, I really don't."

Marion Winters rolled her eyes as she took a sip of her coconut smoothie, her skin was naturally tan and she was wearing her usual wear of yoga pants, a tank top with a shawl to prevent a chill. Both ladies were sitting on beanbags by the window.

"Knowing him, he either would blatantly ignore you or show up at your door for some reason…" she looked at Cadence thoughtfully "he tends to…hold onto things, which is not healthy."

"Who knows?" Cadence sighed, "it's been...a while since I last saw him. It did me good, now I feel like I'm going to puke with all these emotions."

"You need to come to my yoga classes Caddy," Marion smiled excitedly; "It has done you good."

"No," Cadence laughed "I prefer my kickboxing thank you very much."

"Well, the less you see him the better, just wait out the investigation and move on." Marion leaned over and squeezed her friends shoulder gently. Cadence gave her friend a small smile before she went back to her comfort food. Some feeling in the back of her mind told her that she was indeed going to see him soon, sooner than she was comfortable with.

* * *

Back in the apartment, John was absorbed in his book while Sherlock paced back and forth across the room like an angry animal. He had grown used to his technique when it came to a case like this. Though he preferred his technique when he was lying on his couch and meditating, John looked up from the enthralling words and watched his roommate.

"Any leads?"

"NO." Sherlock snarled.

John looked at him with a quizzical brow, "you're in an interesting mood."

With a disgruntled grumbled, Sherlock walked up to the fireplace to look at the messy chart he made of the investigation. The victim's life story, his work, co-workers, certain books and hobbies he favored and even his dog.

"Well…we know this man was a poor, boring lot." Sherlock sighed, "But what caused him to have such a fantastic death like that?"

"You mean being hung from wires from the ceiling in the middle of London's most precious library?" John inquired.

"Yes… maybe he was leading a double life of some sort. This type of death was calculated for a long time…this place knew the library well."

John stared for a moment, "Uh huh…" he then stared a little longer, with his perspective skills; he had a feeling that something else was bugging him and it wasn't relevant to the case.

"Um, Sherlock"

"What," came a rather clipped reply

"Who…who was that woman at the library?" his tone was low and curious but the sudden look that overcame Sherlock's sharp feature made him immediately regret his choice in asking the question that had bugged him since they had left the crime scene. His piercing green-blue eyes bore into Johns face and he took a step closer, "She…she was somebody once."

"Once," John asked, rather confused.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "she is not somebody of importance John so just get over it." The tips of his fingers rested gently upon his thin lips. Suddenly he turned and grabbed his coat from a chair and quickly pulled it on and then wrapped the scarf around his neck "I need to see something."

"What the…" John began but Sherlock was already out of the apartment before he could stop him.

* * *

A short, brisk knock on Cadence's door nearly made her jump out of her skin. Setting down her small class of wine, she stood up and headed for the door. Maybe Marion decided to stop by for a late visit again? She opened the door and met the eyes of her visitor before she quickly closed it again only to have a hand quickly stop it with a loud "bang".

"Cadence," came the voice whom hadn't spoken her name is a long time; her body trembled as she slowly widened the entrance to her home. She stared up into a pair of eyes she loathed and loved.

"Sherlock." She replied, "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Stepping inside her small apartment in three, brisk strides Sherlock surveillance the room quickly "Well, you haven't changed much."

Cadence frowned, "and that's supposed to mean something?"

Sherlock walked over to the coffee table and picked up the wine glass she was drinking from and examined it for a moment, smelled the aroma and sipped it, "hmmm, I always wondered why you chose to become a librarian when you should have been a connoisseur."

"Good god Sherlock what the hell are you doing here!" Cadence had no time for his detective bullshit.

Sherlock met her dark brown gaze "Did you know Charles Kane?"

"He and I had the same lunch break time, he usually sat by himself." Cadence replied, "But I don't understand why you had to come and see **me.**" She threw her arms into the air "I mean, after what had happened between us, you sure as hell made your point as to never make contact with me again."

"That was nearly four years ago Caddy," he set down the wine glass "maybe I have changed."

Cadence sighed heavily "No, you haven't… your still the same idiot I dated three years ago."

"I wouldn't use the term "dating" for our previous relationship Cadence; I liked the other one your friend used."

"You mean "friends with benefits"?"

"Yes. That one!" Sherlock, grinning in remembrance,

Cadence stared, flabbergasted "Wow, way to blow a fucking hole in my heart,"

"You ripped mine out." Was his sudden intense reply, causing all the air to be forced out of her lungs. She knew that Sherlock was never an emotional human being but…that was the most emotional thing he had ever said. They stared at each other for a long moment; Cadence was at loss for words.

He suddenly brushed passed her to the door and opened it, but she stopped and looked at her "You know where I live, come over at 9 o'clock sharp tomorrow morning." He gave her a sarcastic wink before he was suddenly gone from her apartment. With a heavy sigh, she went back to her couch and stared at the glass of wine, suddenly not feeling the need for it anymore.

* * *

Back home, Sherlock avoided everyone and hid in his room. He needed time to think and clear his mind, at Cadence's apartment he was suddenly overwhelmed with emotional baggage that he thought was long since buried. When he saw her at the library, all he could think about was her which frustrated him to no end. His rationality for the case had suddenly flown out the window and the resistance to see her again had crumbled away, so he went. It was easy to find her apartment because he hacked into the library directory and took a short cab ride to it. Everything about her apartment screamed lonely young woman but she had changed a little.

Her hair was longer and her eyes were brighter, she always drank wine but the vintage she bought was more expensive and sweeter, she spoiled herself a little. Her vanilla perfume was light yet alluring and admittedly he liked it, but the one thing that caused him to crack was when she brought up the word "dated". He hated that word, it tasted bitter in his mouth and it sounded too modern and she also called him an idiot, but that didn't matter. Their short meeting caused him to reveal his true feelings about what had happened those years ago, she had ended it and at first he thought he would be perfectly fine with it. He wasn't the most perfect lover but he managed to do his best…after all, she was his first really serious relationship… in his opinion of course. But, in reality, he was heartbroken and better yet, he missed her. John had yet to realize the small keepsakes he had of her around the house, and in his large piles of symphonies he created…the one he created for her still existed and he knew every note by heart still.

If anything, having seeing her again was going to be a huge, stupid mental problem, and it was going to be a hindrance of this case.

* * *

**_Yeaaaahhhhhh...that last bit... . sorry about that! It gets better I promise. _**


End file.
